Six-Twenty-Six
by secretmonkey
Summary: This should be an exciting and wonderful day for Amy (and Shane and Reagan). But, not so much. Can one chat with Liam and eight years change things? Or will Amy forever be afraid of marriage? (Horrible summary, better story)


_**A/N: Totally planned on a JFM update today. And then... well... things happened in the world. And this popped out instead. Hope no one minds. :)**_

Reagan's not sure how she ever thought this was a good idea.

She even says as much, but the others… well….

They disagree.

"It's the perfect choice," Shane says. "It's symbolic and meaningful."

"Plus, you'll never forget it and get in trouble," Liam says.

Reagan rolls her eyes.

They think she's worried about the date. They think she's worried about _when_ she's asking.

Yeah. When. _That's_ the worry.

Totally.

"It _is_ romantic, sort of," Lauren says. And then she frowns and makes a harumph noise. "You know, if you're into all that mushy romantic shit."

She says it like she _isn't_. Like she hasn't been planning the proposal for weeks, ever since Reagan showed her the ring.

(Like she doesn't have a bright pink folder of flower choices and cake suggestions and venue ideas hidden in the trunk of her car.)

Even Karma's on board.

More or less.

"It's as good a day as any other," she says, leaning against the wall and staring out the window of Amy and Reagan's apartment. "Amy will get the symbolism - how could she not, it's been all over the news all day - and besides, it's not like you don't know what she's going to say."

And leave it to Karma to hit on - even inadvertently - the _exact_ reason Reagan wanted to back out.

Because she has no idea - not a single fucking clue - what Amy will say.

And that?

Well, when you're proposing marriage? On the anniversary of the day they made that very idea legal?

Knowing that the other person might say yes?

Well, that's kinda the important part.

* * *

Shane can't help being a little excited.

"It's fucking historic! Like game-changing, life-altering, mind-blowing!"

Maybe a _little_ excited was underselling it a bit.

"This," he says, "Is the kind of shit you get to tell your grand-kids about."

He's right, of course. No matter how dramatic and over-the-top he gets

(this is _Shane_ , after all)

he's got a point.

Someday, each of them - him, Amy, Reagan, Karma, Lauren - will be able to tell their kids or grand-kids where they were the day the courts finally got it right, the day America finally figured it out.

Sitting in Amy's living room, waiting for Liam to get there so they can all go play mini-golf.

Yeah.

Knowing Shane, he will - no doubt - someday embellish the story a little bit.

"This is so important," he says. Reagan nods, her eyes glued to the TV, watching raptly as her whole world shifts.

She's always thought about getting married. But always in the abstract, the way a little kid might think about what they wanted to be when they grew up.

She never imagined it could actually happen. That she wouldn't have to move away, leave Texas, find somewhere slightly less bass-ackwards that recognized the value of her love.

Reagan always thought that someday she'd have to make a choice. Home or heart.

And now five people - five brilliant fucking wonderful people - had changed everything.

Shane reaches over the back of the couch and wraps his arms around Reagan and Amy's shoulders, pulling them together.

"Is this not the best day ever, ladies?"

Reagan squeals - yes, _squeals_ \- and kisses Shane on the cheek before doing the same to her girlfriend.

Amy stares straight ahead. She hasn't said a word, hasn't so much as blinked or moved since the news came up on the screen.

"Shrimps?"

"Yeah," Amy says, with all the emotion of a third-grader reciting her multiplication tables.

"It's great," she says. "Historic. Mind? Blown."

Three sets of eyes turn as one and look at Karma, sitting on the recliner in the corner.

She shrugs, the physical equivalent of 'don't look at me, I got nothing'.

"That's all you want to say?" Lauren asks her sister. She manages to not sound angry

(which, let's face it, is difficult for Lauren under _normal_ circumstances)

but she's not far from it.

"I agreed with him, Lauren," Amy says, unmoved. "What else is there?"

"What else…." Lauren trails off. She doesn't know what to think about this, doesn't know what to make of Amy's seeming indifference.

The tiny blonde stands up and paces across the living room, ending up in front of Amy on the couch, bending a little so she can get right in her sister's face.

"I'm not even fucking gay," she says, "and I think this means more to me than it does to you."

Amy's eyes still don't leave the television but Reagan can feel her girlfriend tense in her arms.

"Lolo," Reagan says, "maybe you should -"

One glare from Lauren and Reagan's words die in her throat.

She loves Amy. More than anything.

Except maybe - just maybe - how much she fears a pissed off Lauren.

"Do you not understand what this means?" Lauren asks. She's leaning closer to Amy and if she gets much further she's going to end up in her sister's lap. "Do you not get how big a fucking deal this is?"

There's an edge to Lauren's voice. Reagan's heard it before.

When she was pleading with Theo

(Or Anthony. Or whatever.)

not to take a transfer to Houston.

He just didn't understand. And Lauren so desperately wanted him to.

She wanted 'them' to mean as much to him as his career did.

"I get it, Lauren, OK?" Amy says, eyes still glued to the screen. They're showing a map of all the states where same-sex marriage is legal.

So, basically, all of them.

"I know it's a big deal, OK?" Amy says. "I'm just… processing, OK?"

 _OK_.

Sure. Just processing. Clearly.

 _Clearly_ , something is up and none of them has the first clue what it is or how to deal with it.

Being gay isn't something Amy spends a lot of time talking about, not even with Reagan. So, none of them really knows what she thinks about it.

And this?

Well, this isn't helping.

Lauren lets out a noise that sounds like some kind of a cross between a grunt and a sigh - a _srunt ?_ \- and storms out of the room in a huff, almost knocking over Liam in the doorway..

"What's got her in a tizzy?" he asks as he walks into the room and drops down onto the couch next to Reagan.

"Gay marriage is legal," Shane says, his excitement only mildly dampened. " _Everywhere_."

"Oh," Liam says. "Cool." He frowns then and turns to Shane. "Wait.. why is Lauren upset about _that_? Isn't that a good thing?"

Shane shakes his head. "She's pissed that _some people_

(pointed glance at Amy, still staring at the screen)

aren't happier about it." He heads for the door. "I'm gonna go see if I can talk her down," he says.

And once Shane is gone, it's just the four of them. The love square or rectangle or paralello-whatever.

It's weird - and they all know it, even if they don't _ever_ acknowledge it - this odd little peace, this truce of sorts that has fallen into place between them.

It's good, it's OK, it's made things easier, even if shit's still a little… fucked up.

Karma still - quite clearly - doesn't trust Amy _or_ Liam completely. But she's fucking Liam

(Austin's worst kept secret)

and she and Amy are slowly working their way back to normal. Or as close to normal as they ever were.

For her part, Reagan's still somewhat hurt by the whole Liam-Amy thing. Mostly by the months of lies and secrets.

(Though the actual _sex_ part does still haunt her a bit.)

(But also gives her plenty of motivation to fuck Amy within an inch of her life as often as possible.)

(Just as a reminder, you know? That she's _so_ much better than Liam.)

(Like Amy needs a reminder of _that_.)

But, strangest of all

(and that, they all know, is saying _something)_

against all odds and logic and sense, a solid friendship has blossomed between Liam and Reagan.

They're close.

(Too close if you ask Amy.)

( _Way_ too close if you ask Karma.)

Close enough that she can lean her head on his shoulder when he sits next to her, dropping one arm across the back of the couch behind her as she stretches her legs out over Amy's lap .

Close enough that he can call her Ray-Ray without getting punched.

(Usually.)

Close enough that they often stay up late, texting and talking long after Amy has fallen asleep and Karma has snuck out and gone home.

It _is_ odd, they both know it. But, in so many ways, it makes more sense than anything else they have.

She's in love with Amy. He's in love with Karma.

And Karma and Amy are… well… Karma and Amy.

So, sometimes - _a lot of times -_ the only person who can understand what it's like to be in love with one is someone who's in love with the other.

It's weird - _so_ fucking weird - but it works.

Not unlike the detente between Karma and Reagan.

They've agreed, for the sake of the girl they both love in their own way, to get along. Which, they both know - even if they'll never actually _say_ it - isn't nearly as hard as they act like it is.

Reagan's discovered that for all her flaws - and Lord knows there's a few - Karma is actually one of the most loving, caring, and deeply emotional people she's ever met.

And Karma's found that Reagan is…

Well…

Karma's found that Reagan is as sexy a person as she is just plain fucking hot. It was bad enough when she just thought Reagan was _physically_ attractive.

But no. That wasn't enough.

She had to be awesome and funny and sweet and hot and…

Fuck.

So, yeah, sometimes Karma can't really see past it. Sometimes, maybe, she even tells Liam

(but _never_ Amy)

that there should be some kind of rule prohibiting one person from being _literally_ all that.

And no matter how many times Liam kisses her, or holds her, or whispers that he loves her while he's fucking her and thinks she can't hear him…

Sometimes Karma just can't see it. She just can't see how she can possibly compete with all that. And sometimes - just _sometimes_ \- it still bugs her to see Reagan and Liam so close.

(and touching) (like all the time) (why?) (why do they have to touch so damn much?)

But Karma knows - _knows_ \- they're just friends.

She knows Liam has a thing for lesbians.

(He hasn't changed _that_ much.)

But Karma also knows one very important fact about Reagan.

The _most_ important one.

Karma's realized that as much as she loves Amy?

Reagan just might love her more.

And even if it isn't more, and even if the amount doesn't really matter, Karma gets it now.

It's different. A different kind of love. Different in a good way.

No, not _just_ good.

Not just good because Karma sees the smile that creeps across Amy's face every time she even hears Reagan's name.

And because there's been times when Karma's been cuddling Amy

(best friends cuddle) (they do) (they _fucking_ do)

when Reagan calls and she's felt the way Amy's heart races in her chest at the sound of her girlfriend's voice.

It's different. Not _just_ good different.

The best different.

Different in a way that makes Amy happy.

And, for all her flaws

(and, the older and wiser and less impulsive Karma gets, the fewer and fewer of those there are)

Karma has _always_ been Amy's best friend. And all she's ever wanted is for Amy to be happy.

Reagan does that.

So, in her own way, Karma kinda _has_ to love Reagan too. Even if she'll never say it.

(And that's only until she hurts Amy.) (Then Karma reserves the right to cut a bitch.)

Then, if you add in Shane and Lauren and whoever they happen to be dating this week

(Duke) (Theo) (Maxwell) (Wade) (Duke, again ) (Theo - _Anthony_ \- again)

(no one)

(Everyone needs a break, right?)

and it's almost like they've made a little workable - if somewhat obviously dysfunctional - family.

Even if there seems to be slightly more 'dys' than 'function' right now.

"You OK, Shrimps?" Reagan asks.

She takes Amy's hand and the fact that the blonde's hand stays limp in hers?

Slightly concerning.

Amy's answers?

Slightly more than slightly concerning.

"Fine," Amy says. "Why wouldn't I be fine? It's a glorious day, right? Perfect. Perfect day. Best. Day. Ever. For _us_. Yay. _We_ won."

She shifts herself out from under Reagan's legs and stands abruptly, almost losing her balance and toppling back onto the couch.

"I'm gonna go grab a soda," she says. "Anyone else want one?"

And then she heads off to the kitchen without so much as waiting for an answer.

Karma and Reagan exchange glances, holding an entire conversation with panicked looks and raised eyebrows.

 _Do you?_

 _No. You?_

 _Not a fucking clue._

 _Shit._

 _Yeah._

Neither of them has ever seen her like that and that makes Karma nervous

(she'd be more worried but she can't stop staring at Liam's arm and the way it seems to be wrapping more and more around Reagan every second)

and scares Reagan half to death.

And Liam?

He just sits there, with Reagan still tucked into his side, letting his eyes slowly drift over the pictures on the wall.

* * *

"It's been eight years, Reagan," Karma says. "I think it's pretty safe to assume she's gonna say yes."

Reagan would like to think Karma's right.

As odd as that sounds, she really would.

But she can't fake it. The feeling, the worry…

Amy's been acting squirrely lately. Like she's hiding something.

(Like the time she tried to throw Reagan a surprise party for her birthday and accidentally convinced Reagan she was cheating on her.)

It's been going on for weeks. Since….

Karma.

Reagan dismisses it out of hand. There's no way. There's no way in fucking hell.

Amy might, maybe, possibly - just _maybe_ \- leave her someday.

But not like that. Not that way.

Not for Karma.

Karma's the one who _left._

She's the one who broke it off with Liam, virtually cut off contact with her parents and moved to New York City right after graduation.

She had to find herself, she said.

She had to try, she said.

She had to get away from Liam and the commitment she could never make _and_ away from Amy once she realized that yes, she was in love with her

(Austin's second-worst kept secret)

but had missed her chance.

She _didn't_ say that.

But she didn't really have to.

It had taken a while - most of the last year - for Amy (and Reagan, Lauren, and Shane) to let Karma back in.

She swore she'd changed. She swore that she knew she'd fucked up.

She apologized. And then apologized some more. And then a little more.

(Lauren was the last hold out. She wanted more groveling.)

In the end, they all had to see it for themselves. Karma made a couple trips home. They made one group trip to NYC.

They had to see that yes, the new and improved Karma Ashcroft - the one who had hit it big on Broadway

(and who would have ever thought a _Cruel Intentions_ musical would actually be _good_?)

was still very much the same - in all the good ways - as the old and unimproved Karma that had walked away from them.

In the end, they saw it. Karma was different. More confident. More open. More honest.

And five minutes into their NYC visit, Reagan and Lauren and Shane had all realized that one very, very important thing _hadn't_ changed.

Truth is, Karma _was_ different. More confident. More honest.

But five minutes into their NYC visit, Reagan and Lauren and Shane had all realized the one very, very important thing that _hadn't_ changed.

Karma was still the salt to Amy's pepper. The Robin to the blonde's Batman.

Karma wasn't in love with Amy anymore

(and at least Reagan wondered if she ever really was)

but she still _loved_ her.

And for the other three? That was all that really mattered.

Friendships were rekindled. Bonds rebuilt, albeit slowly.

But, eventually, it was like Karma had never really left.

So, it stood to reason - at least as much as anything between all of them ever had - that when Reagan decided to propose

(with a very strong _shove_ from Shane and Lauren)

she called Karma.

She felt - in the oddest sort of way - like she had to get the redhead's permission.

It was, without a doubt the most nerve wracking phone call Reagan had ever made. Which might have been why she froze halfway through dialing the number at least a dozen times.

"She could fuck this all up," she said to Shane. "What if this makes her realize she really does still love Amy? What if she decides to move back here? Amy's going to NYC next week. What if Karma tries to win her back?"

"What if," Shane said, taking the phone out of her hand and dialing the number himself, "you just fucking call and find out?"

Reagan pressed the phone to her ear - it was already dialed, after all - and made one last run down her mental checklist of everything she was going to say, every argument she was prepared to make

(most of which centered on Karma having left and how long she and Amy had been together and how she she was only really asking out of some weird sense of courtesy and )

and then _someone_ picked up on the other end of the line.

"Karma's phone," the voice said.

The very _masculine_ voice. The very _familiar_ voice.

"Liam?"

Shane's head snapped around so hard Reagan thought he might give himself whiplash.

Liam had been out of touch for six months. Out of town. Top secret Squirkle business.

(When Karma appeared a few months later in a new Squirkle ad - sporting a _very_ pronounced bump - it was so fucking obvious what that business was.)

"Hey Ray-Ray," Liam said. "Let me get Karms."

Five minutes, one very excited squeal, and a vow to not say a word to Amy when she was in NYC later, Reagan had Karma's blessing.

(What else was she going to say, really? She was with Liam, and had been for three months. She was in love.)

(She was pregnant with a spawn of Squirkle.)

So, yeah, maybe Amy had been acting weird since she went to NYC. But that didn't mean she was cheating. It didn't mean she was leaving Reagan for Karma.

It didn't mean _anything_. It didn't have to.

But Reagan, try as she might, couldn't quite shake the feeling that it did.

That it meant _everything_.

* * *

Six-twenty-six-fifteen was proving one thing to Amy above all others.

People can surprise you.

She'd woken up that morning as a lesbian

(though it would be about another year before she even _used_ that term)

who would never be able to get married. Not as long as she lived in Texas.

And she'd been alright with that.

(more than alright, actually)

But then five people - five people she'd never met and couldn't even name - had gone and fucked the whole thing up.

They'd changed things. They'd changed everything.

They'd changed her.

And she was anything but alright with that.

She hadn't needed today to show her anything. Amy knew all too well how people could surprise you.

Her father had taught her that long ago.

And she'd surprised herself that day in the gym. With the kiss. And then with how she felt.

Karma had done it too. She'd surprised Amy the night of the wedding with how she _didn't_ feel.

(Really, that wasn't it. Amy wasn't surprised by _that_.)

( _I slept with Liam._ )

(Yeah. Little surprise there.)

And then there was Reagan. Reagan, who had surprised Amy every day since they met.

Every day. In so many ways.

Amy had never known that _this_ was how it could be. She knew - abstractly and from years of horrible rom-coms Karma had foisted on her - that _love_

( _Love,_ which was different than love)

existed. But knowing it existed? And knowing that it existed without simultaneous excruciating pain and heartbreak?

Yeah. Those were two very different things.

Until Reagan.

Once upon a time, one of those rom-coms had a wedding scene. Amy could never remember which movie

(there were so fucking many)

but she remembered the scene. She remembered the groom's vows.

He told his wife-to-be that he fell in love with her more and more every day.

And Amy had laughed. Out loud.

(Karma refused to have movie night for a month.)

But it made no sense. Amy could suspend her disbelief, but not that far.

Not until Reagan.

Not until Amy woke up every morning to a day filled with someone who did something - even the tiniest of things - every single day to remind her that she was loved.

A box of Planter's doughnuts (at least three of them bacon flavored) in her locker.

A text message in the middle of math class.

 _2+2 = 4 and anything else you need to know, use a fucking calculator. Love you!_

A handful of pebbles tossed at her window so Reagan could sneak in - even after Farrah knew all about her and she was perfectly able to use the front door - because she knew how hot Amy thought being sneaky was.

Even on days when they were fighting, when they hadn't spoken to each other because they were just too furious to even be in each other's presence?

Reagan still sent the same text every night, without fail.

 _Good night Shrimps. I love you. And even when I'm not there…_

 _You're never far,_ Amy replied. Every time.

Yeah, after Reagan, Amy got it. She got that, yes, it was possible to fall more and more in lvoe with someone every day.

And in that one little way, she even surprised herself.

People, she knew, surprised you sometimes.

Which is why she _shouldn't_ be all that surprised that Liam - of all fucking people - is the one who figures it out.

She shouldn't be shocked in the slightest when he's the one who follows her into the kitchen

(her money had been on Karma)

and hops up onto the counter across from her, just staring at her as she slowly sips the Coke she'd pulled from the fridge.

She doesn't really want it. She hates Coke, actually. But she'd said she was coming in for a soda...

Liam stares at her and she stares right back and silence reigns. For the first time, in a very long time, it's not uncomfortable between them.

The secret that bound them together had loaded every moment between them, made every look they exchanged and every second they'd spent in each other's presence something of a minefield.

Now that the cat's out of the bag, things are easier.

And Amy, despite her better judgment, has found it very easy to like Liam.

Of course, it helps that _this_ Liam is much more like the guy she first met. Much more relaxed and easy-going, willing to learn from his mistakes, and willing to admit when he makes one.

Loving Karma, Amy's decided, has been good for Liam, even when it wasn't.

But, comfortable or not, there's only so much silent staring Amy can take.

"What?"

Liam slides down from the counter and walks over to her, plucking the Coke bottle from her hand and taking a long drink.

"I love Karma," he says. "I'm _in_ love with her."

Amy nods, mostly for a total lack of anything better to do. She knows how Liam feels about Karma.

 _Everyone_ knows how Liam feels.

(That's what happens when you confess your love for someone in front of half the school. _And_ that half includes Shane Harvey, gossip queen of Hester.)

"I think I started falling for her the night of Shane's party," he says. "The one where she lectured me on calling women clingy and how y'all are responsible for keeping the species going."

Amy remembers that. Karma told her all about it - in between discussions of what they were going to do about everyone thinking they were lesbians - and Amy remembers how proud Karma was that she came up with something so smart.

And that she hadn't puked on him. Again.

Liam takes another sip of Coke and stares at the floor between them. His eyes are glassy and unfocused and Amy thinks - just for a moment - that he might be about to cry.

"I wish…" he says. "Well, I wish a lot of things. Most of which are pointless and can't happen and they're just silly."

"Wishes are never silly," Amy says. She smiles gently when he looks up at her. "We've all got them." she says, "and sometimes they… help. We can use them. Remember them and know how we should do things differently the next time."

"Sounds more like regrets than wishes," Liam says.

Amy shrugs. "Po-tay-to, Po-tot-o."

Liam chuckles into the Coke bottle. "I guess," he says. "I just wish…"

He frowns and there's a look on his face that Amy's seen before, the night after they…

When she talked him into - temporarily - lying to Karma.

So that, she realizes, is what regret looks like on Liam Booker.

"I let myself… I convinced myself it was about her being a lesbian," he says. "I _made_ it be about that, you know?"

Amy nods, but says nothing.

She knows. She _so_ knows.

"It was easier," Liam says, hopping back up onto the counter. "Let it be all about conquering the lesbian, showing her what a man could do for her."

Liam shudders a little, as if he's as repulsed by the idea - the idea he _lived_ by - as most decent people would be.

"I wasn't" he says, "a man, I mean. Not once, not one time in everything that happened. I wasn't a man at all. I was a fucking _boy_."

Amy can't disagree.

"It was just… easier. So much easier to literally fuck my way through life than deal with my… mother… sister… whatever."

"Liam -"

He holds up a hand to cut her off.

"How many times has Farrah been married?"

Amy stiffens against the counter and Liam sees it. He's hit a nerve.

Which is good, since that's where he was aiming.

"A few…," Amy says. She doesn't like to be specific. She doesn't like to hear the number out loud. "Why?"

"I've been friends with Shane since we were kids," Liam says, and if Amy's startled or bothered by the sudden apparent change in topic she doesn't show it.

"Almost as long as me and Karma," she says.

Liam nods. "Yeah," he says. "So while I'm by no means an expert on all things gay… I do have an idea of how hard it can be."

"It's not so bad," Amy says and Liam smiles.

It's the first time he's ever heard her actually acknowledge that she's gay.

(Making out with Reagan all the fucking time, notwithstanding.)

"Yeah, well, Austin's different, that's for sure," he says. "But I gotta figure, as hard as it might be, there's probably some things that are a bit easier for you."

Amy knows she's being led - like a horse to water - but she can't help following. "Like what?" she asks.

Liam looks at her, his eyes clear and piercing, and Amy knows he can see it. She knows he's figured it out.

Reagan and Karma are still out in the living room, trying to talk in hushed tones about what the hell is wrong with her.

And Liam's got it.

"What's so much easier for me?" she asks again.

"Never having to worry about getting married," Liam says. "Never having to worry about being your mom."

Amy stiffens again and then - almost immediately - heads for the door.

She thought she could handle it. She thought she could hear it and tell him he was wrong and blow him off and be done with it.

She was - so fucking obviously - wrong.

Liam slips from the counter and cuts her off before she reaches the door. Before she escapes.

"I'm not my momster," he says. "And you're not your mother."

Amy stares at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.

She knows she's not her mother.

But she also knows that before today?

She didn't have to worry that someday, she might be.

"I know that's easy for me to say," Liam says. "But it's true. You're not her. You're not the kind to marry four or five times, the kind to -"

"Neither was she," Amy says softly. "You think she _wanted_ this? She wanted _my father_."

 _He just didn't want her. Or me._

 _Not enough._

Liam says nothing, but he doesn't move out of her way either.

"I'm a product of my environment," Amy says. "Just like you. Your family taught you love didn't matter. My mother taught me marriage was temporary. A thing to be bought and returned like a pair of socks or a television."

Liam can't argue with her. She's right.

But…

"I learned differently," he says. "I realized they were wrong. And all it took… all it took was the love of the right person."

"My mother thought she'd found the right person," Amy says. "She thought she'd found the right person four fucking times."

And yeah, Amy thinks, Bruce is still here. And maybe he always will be.

But she's pretty sure she won't be _sure_ of that until he and Farrah are both dead and in the ground and still not divorced.

Liam sees it in her eyes, sees the resignation and anger and the fear.

"Maybe you're jumping the gun, you know, talking about marriage," he says. "You don't even know -"

"I know," Amy says, so softly Liam almost doesn't hear her. "I _know_. Just like you do."

She looks at him then and she sees it in his eyes, exactly what she knows he sees reflected in hers.

"I'm sixteen and I can barely even say the word 'lesbian' and I've got daddy issue a mile long, but I _know_."

For her, for Amy?

It will _always_ be Reagan.

And until this morning, until those five people threw her life into total disarray, she was just fine with that.

"You're not your mother, Amy," Liam says. "And Reagan isn't your dad. Or your stepdad. Or your other stepdad."

"I know that," Amy snaps. She wants to snap louder and harder and yell and scream at him to mind his own fucking business and to leave her the hell alone.

But she doesn't.

Reagan and Karma are in the next room.

Yup. _That's_ why.

Amy paces back across the kitchen, pausing to lean against the fridge. "You know what _was_ easier?" she asks. "Being straight. Being totally uninterested in anyone."

Liam can tell she's thought about this before. Probably a thousand times in a thousand different ways.

"Karma's always expected us to get married together," she says. "Not to each other, I mean, but…"

Liam nods. "I get it," he says. "She might have described plans for a massive double wedding on the beach to me once or twice."

Or a dozen times. In great fucking detail.

Liam knows exactly the length Karma wants the train on her wedding dress to be.

And no fucking clue what to do with _that_.

"I never had the heart to break it to her," Amy says. "How do you tell the world's biggest romantic that yes, you'll happily be her maid of honor but she's never going to get the chance to be yours?"

Liam can only imagine the waterworks, for Karma, that would be a near unspeakable tragedy.

"Guess being a lesbian solved that problem, huh?"

Amy laughs. She can't help it.

"Until today," she says. "Stupid fucking judges," she mutters and when Liam laughs she does too. "I know I should be happy. I know I should celebrate. This is a big deal for them… for _us_."

Liam doesn't call her on the slip and she's grateful.

Someday, maybe sooner rather than later, Amy will be able to think of herself as a part of it all.

But right now…

Right now all she can see is her mother's wedding dress. And her other wedding dress. And her wedding pantsuit. And her _other…_

"Someday," Liam says. "Someday, you're going to look at her, and you're going to know."

He steps toward her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and Amy buries her face in his chest.

"Someday," he whispers. "Your mother and all her marriages won't mean a thing because the only thing that will mean _anything_ will be _her_."

He's crying and she doesn't know why, but she's not going to ask. She just rests her head against him and feels the gentle shudders in his chest.

"Someday, you're going to see Reagan and every other thought will vanish," LIam says. "Every other thought will slip away and all you'll be able think or hear or see will be you and her and forever."

Someday.

Amy thinks that maybe, just maybe, someday can work.

Someday when she can say it. When she can call herself what she is. When she can be her own woman. When she can love Reagan openly and outwardly the way she already does in her heart.

Someday.

The door swings open and Karma comes bustling through, stopping short when she sees Liam with Amy in his arms.

"Um… Reagan and I were just um…"

Amy disengages - a little quicker than she has to - and blinks the tear from her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get back out there," she says. She heads through the door, but not before she catches Liam's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Maybe someday she'll be able to thank him properly.

Liam leans against the counter, afraid to look at Karma. "That wasn't any… I mean… she was upset and.."

Karma slips up behind him and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back.

"I know," she says. "I heard. What you said to her? About someday? That was beautiful."

Liam nods but doesn't turn. He doesn't want her to see. Not the tears staining his cheeks or the pain in his eyes.

Those words? Those somedays?

That was how his mother described it to him when he confronted her.

How she described the moment she first saw his father.

Some days, Liam knows, just aren't meant to last.

He just hopes Amy's - and his - are different.

* * *

Amy knows.

From the moment she walks into the apartment, she knows something's up.

Well, from before that, actually.

First sign was the cars. Shane and Lauren's cars she spotted almost immediately. Liam and Karma's SUV

(safer for the baby)

took her a minute, but she spotted it.

They tried to hide, but it's not like she and Reagan live on a very busy street. But her friends all being here wouldn't be much of a shock

(even if Karma and Liam aren't due in until tomorrow)

but since the care are all there, but she doesn't see any of them or hear anyone through the closed apartment door...

Amy knows she can be slow - usually when it comes to Karma or anything related to math - but even she can put two and two together.

(And usually get four.)

Of course, the trail of rose petals leading from the front door to their tiny balcony

(where Amy can already see - and smell - a box of fresh _Planter's_ doughnuts)

might be something of a tip off too.

Amy moves into the apartment, slowly, following the trail toward the balcony (and the doughnuts) one small step at a time.

She's not afraid, not really. She's just remembering.

A few weeks ago. New York City. She was out to dinner with Karma and Liam

(and yes, the 'and Liam' part was a bit of a surprise, but a good one)

and Karma kept looking at her funny.

Amy checked her teeth in her compact

(and yes, she actually carries a compact now)

 _three times_. She even checked her hair.

(No croquembouche.)

But Karma kept doing it. And she kept fidgeting with her hands in her lap and smiling too much and laughing at every joke Liam made

(and let's face it, like him or not, Liam just isn't _that_ funny)

and basically overdoing it. With _everything_.

And she did it all fucking night.

Finally, as they were dropping Amy off at her hotel, she turned to Karma and asked in that way only oldest and dearest and best friends can.

"What the fuck are you staring at?"

Liam had to cover his mouth with one hand and excuse himself back to the car.

They both heard him laughing before he was even out of sight.

Karma stared at Amy for a moment, like she wanted to say something, like it was physically paining her to not just blurt it out.

But then she just grabbed Amy's hand and started walking.

They'd only gone a few steps before Karma finally found her voice again. "You remember that party at Shane's house?" she asked. "The one when everyone mistook us for lesbians?"

"Vaguely," Amy answered, hoping Karma wasn't so far out of it that she'd miss the sarcasm.

"That night, I met my future husband," Karma said. "And the father of my child."

Amy stopped, dead in her tracks, and stared.

In a way, she was disappointed. Not that Karma was marrying Liam or having his kid.

(She liked Liam. Really. And any romantic thoughts she had towards Karma were _long_ dead.)

But how had she not known. How had she not seen.

No matter how far apart they were, Amy always thought of Karma as her best friend, the person who knew her best and vice versa. But she had missed this so completely.

She'd missed every sign.

The ring. The one Karma had been fidgeting with in her lap all night.

The champagne Liam had ordered but Karma hadn't so much as sippd.

The glow.

Amy had always heard pregnant women glowed.

But she'd thought Karma was just using bronzer. Really, she did.

(Like that wasn't something Karma would do.)

It had all been right there and Amy hadn't seen it.

Maybe Karma was a better actress than her Broadway reviews said.

"Oh, my God, Karms," Amy said. "This is… I'm so…"

She didn't know what to say so she just did what came naturally. She hugged her. Amy pulled Karma to her and held her tight.

And Karma? Well she was fit to burst.

(and not just with what would eventually become Eliza Bailey Booker)

but she'd promised.

And even if it was a promise to Reagan…

She still had to keep it.

Mostly.

"There were times I thought this day would never come," Karma whispered. "Times when I thought Liam and I would never get it right or I'd never find anyone who could deal with me and all my… stuff."

Amy chuckled lightly against Karma's shoulder.

Stuff.

Yeah, that was _one_ way to put it.

"When I left Austin, I thought…" Karma felt tears pricking at her eyes and buried her face into Amy's neck. She'd missed her so much. And just being here with her, like this…

No matter what, Karma knew she was never leaving Amy - or the rest of them - again.

"I thought I'd left everything that ever mattered to me behind and I'd never be able to get it back."

Amy leaned back in the hug and rested her forehead against Karma's. "You know you could never lose us, Karma. Not even Lauren."

Karma smiled. She did know that. It had taken her years, but she'd figured that much out.

"When Liam proposed, when we found out we were pregnant - and it was in _that_ order, by the way

(Amy grinned)

I realized that the day I'd been waiting for all these years, the day when I was finally going to be happy with me and my life… it was here and I hadn't even realized it."

"Karma? Is there a point to all this?"

Karma nodded, as she caught sight of Liam out of the corner of her eye. "Don't miss your day, Aims. OK?" She smiled then, that same smile she always got right before she told Amy about her latest ridiculous plan.

"Karma…"

"Just… promise me, OK? Promise me that you'll let yourself be happy." Karma kissed her on the cheek and started off toward her Liam.

"Someday is coming, Amy," she yelled back. "Someday's coming."

That night, Amy rolled her eyes and headed into the hotel, muttering to herself about pregnant women and their hormones and ramblings and pregnancy brain.

Tonight?

Tonight, she understands.

Even before she steps out onto the balcony. Even before she turns and sees Reagan waiting there, just beyond the door.

Even before she sees the small velvet box in her girlfriend's hand.

Amy's understood every night since she got back from NYC. She knew what Karma was hinting at. She didn't know when or how or any of the details.

But she knew.

Amy knew when - a week and a half ago - she found herself in a jewelry store on the other side of town. When she found herself staring at the diamonds.

When she called her mom and asked her to meet her there.

When she asked Farrah to help her choose.

She knew Reagan already had a ring for her, she knew her girlfriend wouldn't plan something - plan it to the point of talking to Karma - and not be prepared.

But that didn't matter. Because Amy doesn't want to just say 'yes'.

She wants Reagan to _know._ The way she's known since she was sixteen years old.

The way she's known since five people she's never met

(but can now name. Thank you, college.)

yanked her safety net out from under her. Since they made her feel like even though everyone like her won, she'd lost.

Amy wants Reagan to know.

She gets it now. She understands.

It took eight years. Eight years to the day.

But Amy understands just what those five people did for her.

And what this one perfect woman standing before her has _been_ doing for her since the day they met.

It took eight years.

But someday finally arrived.

(She totally said 'yes'.)

(They _both_ did.)


End file.
